Free The Lost Queen by Frewin Jones

the seas
    light our way hence to Ynis Logris—the Island of No Hope’s Fading
    guide our footsteps true—to the Island of All Time’s Waking lead us through this pure night to the Island of No Love’s Parting
    to Ynis Logris—the Isle of Our Delight
    Tania was so caught up in the solemn hymning of the two rich voices that it was a minute or two before she was aware that the angle of the deck was changing under her feet. She adjusted her stance, taking hold of the rail as the slope of the deck steepened.
    It was as if the ship was rising on the swell of a huge, slow wave, but surely no wave could rise and rise for such a long time. Surely there had to be the crest and the fall into the trough. Surely?
    The Faerie lords and ladies on the lower deck hadbecome silent. Mariners hung watchfully from the rigging.
    Puzzled, Tania looked over the rail. The ship was rising prow-first from the waves. White water cascaded, foaming and swirling as the great silver hull lifted higher and higher.
    Tania gaped, clinging to the rail as the keel drew clear of the sea. Drops of white water fell from the curved timbers as the ship rose into the sky. She heard gasps and exclamations from around her as the horizon fell away. The receding face of the sea looked like beaten black iron as the galleon sailed into the star-filled night.
    The prow turned and now the ship was heading toward the round disk of the moon. If it had been huge before, now it was colossal. Moment by moment, its light grew brighter. Frozen with astonishment, Tania hung on the rail as the moon expanded until it seemed to fill the entire sky.
    At last she had to throw her arm over her face and close her eyes against the blaze of light as she felt herself washed over by a surge of liquid silver.
    A few moments later Sancha’s voice sounded close by. “We are there.”
    Tania opened her eyes. The moon was gone and the chanting had ceased.
    Tania gasped. “What happened?”
    Sancha pointed back along the ship. The great full moon lay astern now—still immeasurably huge, but less blindingly bright. Eden and the King werestanding at the far rail, the King’s arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
    â€œZara played up a wind for our sails, and Eden and the King guided our course,” Sancha said. “Look you now—Ynis Logris lies below.”
    The ship was high, high above the waves, the sails straining and the hull creaking gently as it divided the air. Far below, an island of green-clad hills floated in a girdle of white sand on the dark bosom of the sea. Three galleons lay at anchor in a shallow bay on the nearside of the island. Tania could see small boats coming and going as people and provisions were ferried to the shore. Higher up the long sandy beach, bonfires had been lit, and the aromatic scent of wood-smoke came up to her as she leaned over the prow.
    The Cloud Scudder was dipping now, moving in a long slow curve toward the island.
    The ship touched the waves so gently that Tania would have been unaware of it had she not been watching with a fast-beating heart as the sharp keel clove the water and sent up flukes of white foam.
    The Cloud Scudder settled in the water close to the other three ships. Commands rang out and the anchors were loosened and the sails furled. Boats were already being lowered from the sides.
    â€œWhat now?” Tania said.
    â€œNow we go ashore,” Cordelia said. “The bonfires are lit, the entertainments have been arranged: Let the revelries begin!” As she spoke a small shape came soaring down out of the night sky, and with a series ofkeening cries, Windfarer came to rest on her wrist.
    â€œYes, indeed, my friend,” Cordelia said to the bird. “You speak true. It has been an age of sorrow since last we set foot upon the dancing sands of Ynis Logris. But tonight all that shall be amended.”
    Eden came walking across the deck toward Tania. “Come,” she